Sequel to "Tómas"

Overall rating: PG-13
Category: slash, adventure, humour
Pairing: Norrington/Gillette
Other characters appearing: Lord George Cutler Beckett, Lt. Greitzer, Lt. Groves, Will Turner plus cameos by Prince Frederick of Prussia and Voltaire
Warnings: none
Feedback: very welcome. Good or bad.
Author's note: I thought that "Tómas" was the weirdest story I've ever written. Well, I was wrong.


Summary: There is nothing that a leprechaun wouldn't do for his treasure, so all is not lost for James Norrington.


Robert put up a fight, but thanks to Gillette's iron grip and the occasional helpful kick up his backside from Voltaire, they eventually arrived in the orlop. The mermaids had followed them, chatting among themselves, their fins twitching nervously. Voltaire couldn't stop looking at their sharp teeth, and he worried what would happen if they should decide to fight for their slaves. He had a plan, of course, but one never knew.

Robert, finally realising that the whistle had been blown on him, protested loudly. "Why have you brought me here? I don't like this place! I demand to return to my quarters!"

"Demand all you want, but first you'll explain to us this," Gillette said firmly. "Henry, show yourself!"

"Yes, sir," came the reply from the darkness, and soon, Henry and his fellow prisoners moved forward. Robert paled and tried to struggle free, but Gillette and Voltaire wouldn't have any of it.

Cutler Beckett swallowed hard. "What - who is that?"

"One of our story-tellers," Barbel explained helpfully.

"One of James Norrington's ship's boys on the Dauntless," Gillette corrected. "And your lovely accountant here sold him to the mermaids. Him and all the other men."

Cutler Beckett looked from Henry to Robert and then back to the dead seamen.

"I can't believe this. This is what you've done behind my back all those years? While I paid you a royal salary and allowed you a life in luxury? Such betrayal!"

"Bah, 'royal salary'," Robert grumbled. "Why be happy with the crumbs if I can have the whole bread? One should think a leprechaun would understand that, but this just goes to show that your time among mortals has ruined you. You're weak, and lost all sense for business."

Cutler Beckett's face turned so red that Voltaire feared he might soon explode.

"Lost my sense for business? Me? Seoirse is the most cunning leprechaun of all, keep that in mind when I collect the award for delivering your thieving, lying fairy-arse to justice back home!" He looked over his shoulder. "I'm sure you don't want a share of the award, Tómas, seeing how I have done all the work here."

"I'm confused. Somebody explain, please," Barbel demanded, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes narrowed. "Why does his Highness take Master Robert away? We don't like people leaving. We don't allow people leaving."

Gillette sighed.

"Barbel, I know that you are bored here. I'm very sorry about that. But you can't keep people with you against their will. And you can't buy people, either. Or sell them. That's against the law and against nature. We are all born to be free. You have no right to make people unhappy."

Barbel looked very sad.

"They are unhappy? But we treated them always kindly, and we love their tales."

"I know you did, but how would you like it if some fisherman would catch you in his net and then lock you up, only to exhibit you on funfairs?"

"That would be terrible," Barbel admitted. "But certainly nobody would do such a thing?"

"You have no idea," Voltaire said. "They would do that, and more! Remember what happened to cousin Tinkerbelle? Spent twenty years in a glass jar, serving as a reading light for the village apothecary!"

"But who will entertain us if we allow them to leave?" Barbel whined.

"Do not worry, fair mermaid," Voltaire replied smoothly, "I have just the thing you need." Out of nowhere, he produced a large, box-like object and placed it carefully on a barrel. "This will entertain you for centuries to come!"

Barbel swam a circle around the object, her interest caught. "Oh, how curious! What is it?"

"This? Ah, this is the greatest story-teller of all times!"

The mermaids gathered around the box, and watched Voltaire pushing a button, then turning a wheel. A bright light was blinding them, but once their eyes got used to the light, they could see two tiny people in the box, yelling at each other.

- "I don't want smooth, just something that's less like roller-blading down the Himalayas with a rocket up me backside." -

"Oooh!" The mermaids stared open-mouthed at the box. Voltaire grinned, and turned the wheel again.

- "Congratulations, Jimmy! According to our test, you're Justin's father!" -

"Please tell me you are joking," Gillette groaned.

"Not at all," Voltaire replied cheerfully. "Soaps and reality shows and quizzes and talking heads - this will keep them busy until the invention of the internet. So, Barbel, what say you? Are we allowed to leave and take your story-tellers with you?"

- "For I am not Emily Kimberly, the daughter of Dwayne and Alma Kimberly. No, I'm not. I'm Edward Kimberly, the recluse brother of my sister Anthea." -

"Barbel?"

"What?" Barbel asked, not taking her eyes from the box.

"We. Prisoners. Leaving. Now."

- "Hey, I'm the Doctor, I can save the universe using a kettle and some string! And look at me, I'm wearing a vegetable." -

"Barbel!"

"Oh? Oh. Yes, yes, of course. Have a nice journey home." She waved vaguely with one hand, and returned her attention to the screen.

Gillette nodded at Henry.

"Quick, we must leave as long as they are distracted."

Voltaire, Gillette, Cutler Beckett and a very reluctant Robert left, followed by Henry and the seamen. Behind them, they could hear the oohs and aahs of the mermaids.

- "I have come up with a plan so cunning you could stick a tail on it and call it a weasel." -

Quotes: EastEnders, Jeremy Kyle Show, Tootsie, Doctor Who, Black Adder.

* * *

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THE FLYING SCOTSMAN 13/18
by Molly Joyful